


The Automaton

by jelazakazone, oohmrsharp (selahexanimo)



Category: Leviathan - Scott Westerfeld
Genre: Fairy Tale Retellings, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-08
Updated: 2015-08-08
Packaged: 2018-04-13 16:33:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4529130
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jelazakazone/pseuds/jelazakazone, https://archiveofourown.org/users/selahexanimo/pseuds/oohmrsharp
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Deryn and Alek make their fortune.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Automaton

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 2015 Women and Genderqueer First Podfic Exchange. Narrated by jelazakazone (link to podfic coming soon).

There once was a nobleman who had three sons. This nobleman had done well for himself in his early years, but the vagaries of fortune had caught up to him, and he had little, now, to leave his sons.

He called to them, as he lay upon his deathbed, and divided what remained of his possessions among them. To his eldest, he left the house. To his second son, he left his Stormwalker. And to his youngest, he left an automaton, which he had found beside the road many years ago, while on campaign. "I could never get it working again," he said, with some regret. "But perhaps you, Aleksandar, will have better luck."

And saying this, the nobleman blessed his sons and breathed his last.

The two elder sons smirked and shook their heads to see Aleksandar's inheritance. "How are you meant to make a living with that broken thing?" they asked. "Sell it off in parts. Perhaps the metal shall fetch a good price."

But Alek had a soft heart, and could not bear the thought of selling off the automaton in pieces. She did not deserve such a fate, for whoever had built her had loved her very much. The automaton's craftsmanship was exquisite, lifelike despite the rust and spiderwebs that clogged her gears. "She deserves another chance at life," he said, and his brothers snorted and jeered, "What life? It is only junk metal." But Alek did not listen. He took the automaton to his workshop and shut himself in, and after many days of delicate, ceaseless work, he brought it back to life.

She sprang from the worktable with a whir of gears and a clatter of metal limbs and announced, "Well! I feel like a bloody wreck. Good morning." She held out her hand. "I'm Deryn. Who are you and what's all this?"

He shook her hand and told her his name, then apologized for the disarray in which she found herself: her painted-on livery flaking, the metal patches imperfectly matched with the rest of her. "I hope you can forgive my handiwork," he said. "I am hardly the equal of the craftsman who built you."

Deryn tilted her head -- her face was as painted on as the rest of her, and the movement of her head and limbs was her only means of expression. "I can't remember who built me," she said, "and I'm sorry for it. But you mustn't apologize, you've done a barking good job. I suppose you have work for me, now."

"Oh no," said Alek, flustered. "I know you are dressed in a servant's livery, and that you were given to me as my inheritance. But you were not my father's to give, and you are not mine to keep."

"You mean I'm free to go?" Deryn asked. "You'll not keep me on to serve you? Surely you fixed me for some reason."

"The repairs are a gift," said Alek. "I only hope my work holds, whether you choose to stay with me or go."

Deryn looked at him for a long moment. "That's pure dead good of you," she said, in an odd tone. "I think I'll stay, for the time being."

"I am afraid that in that case, you must prepare to leave," Alek said. "This house and workshop have passed to my brother, and I have decided to leave and seek my fortune, rather than remain here and earn my keep."

"Excellent," said Deryn. "This will be a lark."

"Whatever do you mean?"

"If you'll let me, I can make your fortune," she said. "But you must promise, Alek, that from this moment on, you will do exactly as I say without question.” She paused. "Consider this my gift to you."

Alek smiled. "It will be quite the wondrous gift. I accept."

He held out his hand, and they shook on the matter.

They departed the next morning and walked all that day and day after. They soon came upon a city governed by the Lady Lilit, who was said to be a skilled fabricator of mechanical wonders. "She has promised to bestow a fortune upon the first fabricator whose machine can overcome three challenges," an innkeeper told them. "But all who have tried have failed."

"We won't," said Deryn, but Alek shook his head.

"But how can we hope to overcome the Lady Lilit's challenges when no one else could?" he said. "I am not so skilled a craftsman that I could build such a superior machine."

"Perhaps not," said Deryn. "But you have me."

They first tidied themselves, purchasing for Alek a new suit of clothes and repainting Deryn's chipped face and livery. Deryn was clever with the paintbrush, so clever, indeed, that when she had finished, Alek could not tell she was an automaton. 

At last, they presented themselves in the court of Lady Lilit.

"Greetings, milady," Deryn said. "Allow me to present Master Aleksandar, who is the greatest fabricator of machines in the land."

The Lady Lilit looked amused. "You offer up a bold claim," she said. "What evidence is there that he is?"

Deryn stepped forward and flung open her arms. "Milady," she said, "look no further than me."

The Lady Lilit scrutinized her. "You are an automaton?" she asked, and when Deryn said that indeed, she was, Lilit beckoned. "Come closer," she said, "for I do not believe it."

But upon closer inspection, the lady discovered that Deryn spoke the truth. "You are a strange automaton," she said. "Very strange indeed. I have never seen your like before."

"It is because my master is so clever," Deryn said.

Lilit looked at her with narrowed eyes. "Hmm," she said. "Well, perhaps Master Aleksandar is worthy of his title. Tell me, craftsman -- how did you fabricate an automaton as marvelous as this?"

Deryn broke in. "My master cannot go around giving away all his secrets."

"I see. Then are you clever enough to overcome my challenges?" Lady Lilit asked. "For I assume this why you and your master are here."

"That's exactly right," said Deryn. "I can, and will, beat every challenge you give me."

"Be careful, automaton. A hundred of the greatest fabricators have said the same, and they have all failed."

"In that case," said Deryn, "you'll be happy we've come, for this is the last time you'll ever have to listen to such boasting."

"I shall hold you to your word," the lady said, with a smile. "Come with me."

She led them to a room that was filled from floor to ceiling with grain. So vast was the room, and so mountainous was the pile, that the far wall was hidden from view. "There are three kinds of grain," Lilit said. "Sort them by nightfall."

And so saying, she departed.

"This shall never get done!" Alek cried. "Not even with the both of us sorting."

"Cheer up, your masterliness," said Deryn. "I promised you a fortune, didn't I?"

She began to walk along the wall, tapping it with her knuckles, until she had circled the entire room. And as she walked, she called in a soft voice, "I am in need of help. Will you help me, friends?" And as Alek watched, the edges and corners of the wall began to stream with ants. 

Dozens, then hundreds, then thousands of ants filled the room. The ants climbed the pile of grain and began to dismantle it, seed by seed.

At long last, the pile vanished, and in its place stood three heaps of grain. Deryn thanked the ants, and they began to stream away as silently as they had come. The walls absorbed them, or so it seemed to Alek's eyes, until not a one was left.

When the Lady Lilit returned, she inspected each pile. "Very good," she said. "I have prepared rooms for the both of you. The next challenge will begin in the morning."

And she smiled, first at them, and then to herself, as she left them to the care of her servants.

The next morning, the Lady Lilit took them outside of the city, to a meadow riddled with brambles. "In a moment," she said, "the herdsmen will drive the sheep to pasture. You must collect enough of their wool to fill these bags." And so saying, she handed them a pair of canvas bags large enough to sleep in.

"This seems easy enough work," said Alek, as the lady departed.

"You forget," said Deryn, "that this is the Lady Lilit."

They felt the sheep before they saw them. A tremor so fierce and violent that it knocked Deryn and Alek to their knees rumbled through the ground. Deryn grabbed Alek's arm and dragged him behind an outcrop, just in time. For over the hill, a herd of sheep stampeded. They stood taller than Alek, and their eyes gleamed the color of brimstone. Their wool was golden, so bright it blinded. 

"Those are fabrications," Alek said. "We shall be trampled if we try to go among them."

"Aye," said Deryn. "So we wait."

They waited until the day slid into dusk, and the sheep began to bed down for the night. "Lady Lilit will be returning soon," Alek whispered, "but we have not yet filled our bags."

"Never fear, your masterliness," Deryn said. "Our waiting's at an end."

She led him from behind the outcrop, and quietly, they slipped among the slumbering sheep. The brambles were thick with golden wool, pulled free as the sheep had walked about during the day. Alek and Deryn stuffed their bags until they bulged.

They left the pasture, and were halfway back to the city when Lady Lilit met them. She examined their bags, and pronounced herself satisfied. 

"Your beds are waiting for you," she said. "The next challenge will begin in the morning."

And again, she gave them her secret smile.

The next morning, the Lady Lilit took them outside the city once again. They followed her up a mountain, to where a river spilled down into the valley below. The river ran so fiercely that it boiled. Its spray needled their skin, and the banks on both sides were sheer drops, flecked with rocks so slick they glistened.

"Fill this goblet," said the Lady Lilit, "and return to me within the hour."

Alek stared into the wild foam. "There is no place along this river where we could fill the goblet without losing an arm," he said. "We cannot even get close enough to try."

"Hey, now, your masterliness," said Deryn. "What exactly do you think I've been doing these past few days?"

She began to trot up the bank, goblet in hand, and called, as she went, "I am in need of help. Will you help me, friend?"

And as Alek watched, an eagle came spiraling down from a dizzying height. The eagle landed upon the outstretched limb of a tree and regarded Deryn. She offered the goblet and asked, "Will you take this to the mouth of the river and fill this for me?" The eagle nodded once and took the goblet in its jaws. It burst into the air, and flew so high that Alek and Deryn soon lost sight of it.

It returned swiftly. Clear water sloshed down the sides of the goblet as the eagle gently offered it back to Deryn. She thanked it, and the eagle nodded once more.

They returned to the city, and presented themselves before the Lady Lilit. She sat, as they had first found her, in her audience chamber, quiet and unsmiling, her hands folded in her lap. She took the goblet from Deryn.

"You have done all I asked," she said, "and you have done it well. But there is one last thing I wish to ask of you."

"You said only three challenges!" Deryn burst out.

"Yes," said Lilit. "Which is why you may agree to this task or not. You will receive your reward, whatever you choose. But you are the only ones who have ever completed my tasks, and the only ones, I think, who can help me."

"What is the challenge?" Alek asked.

The Lady Lilit gathered herself. "I wish you to descend to the underworld," she said, "and bring back my father."

The room went very still. Deryn and Alek looked at one another.

"You may say no," said the lady. "You will lose no face. I will think no less of you."

A look passed between Alek, the youngest son, and Deryn, the automaton, as only the best of friends could exchange.

"My lady," said Alek, "we accept."

The Lady Lilit shuddered, and gripped the arm of her chair. "Thank you," she whispered.

"Follow the river to the underworld, where an oarsman is waiting to take you across the lake. You must pay him with this ring, which was woven from the fleece of the golden sheep. Once you have reached the other side, you must feed a loaf of bread baked from the grain you sorted to a tigeresque who guards the entrance. Once you have found my father -- you will know him when you see him -- you must return to the oarsmen and pay him with a second ring to take you back. And remember: you must not linger. For if you do, then you will be trapped."

When Alek and Deryn had received the bread and rings, they departed.

They followed the raging river down to its very end -- a journey of many days. The river calmed until it ran sluggish and thin. An oarsman awaited them, just as the lady had said.

They offered him a ring and climbed into his boat, and he rowed them into the darkness of a cavern. "How shall we find her father?" Alek asked. "She said we should know him, but I cannot fathom how."

"We'll find a way," Deryn said, but her voice was curiously subdued.

The oarsman left them on the opposite bank, and Alek and Deryn followed a winding path until they came to a great, iron gate. A tigeresque prowled before it, and snarled as they drew close. Deryn tossed the bread, and the tigeresque was well-distracted, allowing them to slip through the gate.

As they walked, the air grew heavier, until Alek began to struggle to breathe. It was as if they had stepped into a crowded room, hot with bodies. From the corners of his eyes, he saw people, pale and formless when he looked at them straight on.

One figure shuddered before them, blinking in and out. When Alek looked at it, the figure did not disperse into a silver mist, but strengthened. "Are you the father of the Lady Lilit?" Deryn asked. The figure whispered incomprehensible words, but it reached out and cupped their faces in its hands. Its palms drifted through them, cold as river water.

"We are here for you," Alek said. "Will you come with us?"

The figure began to drift in the direction where Alek and Deryn had come, moving swift and eagerly. Alek began to follow -- then realized that Deryn was not coming.

"We have found him," he said, turning back to her. "We can leave, now."

"Go on, then," said Deryn. "Go as fast as you can."

"I don't understand. You must come too."

"But that's just it, don't you see? I can't go. Someone must stay behind, in her father's place."

Alek went very cold. He started back toward Deryn, but she stepped back, hands raised.

"I told you," she said. "I'm staying."

"If someone must stay," said Alek, "then I will."

Deryn's still, painted face seemed to shift, as if the metal was turning to liquid. "But didn't I tell you I'd make you your fortune?" she said. "It's just up there, your masterliness, outside this place, waiting for you."

"No," Alek said. "You are my fortune."

Her face shifted again. "You promised you'd do exactly as I told you, Alek," she said. "You promised, and you shook my hand. So this is what I'm telling you now: take Lilit's father back to her. And don't look back."

And so saying, she stepped back, back, back, until the shadows fell across her, and she was lost to Alek's sight.

Alek and Lilit's father walked through the gate, past the tigeresque who watched them with yellow eyes, and down the winding path until they found the oarsman. Alek handed him the second ring, and he and his companion climbed aboard.

He did not look back, but stared forward, as the mouth of the cavern grew larger and larger. Lilit's father touched his shoulder, and his hand was solid and warm.

When Alek and Lilit's father returned to the city, the lady was waiting at the front gate. She ran to them and fell into her father's arms; for a long moment, she pressed her face against his chest, and he clasped her to him and murmured her name. Alek turned and began to walk back down the road, but Lilit's voice stopped him before he had gone ten steps. "Where is Deryn?" she asked. 

Alek turned. "She could not come. She had to stay behind."

The Lady Lilit straightened up. "No," she cried, "no, she should have come back with you. The underworld should not have been able to keep her."

"What do you mean?"

"Don't you see? She was not an automaton. Or she has not always been one. At least--" And here the lady paused, and seemed unsure. "At least, that is what I concluded. I know something of automatons, and I have never seen her like. She is human, beneath the metal and gears, a human that has been cursed."

"But even if she is cursed," Alek whispered -- for his throat was closing, and he could not bear the hope that was springing up inside of him -- "she must still stay in the underworld. Someone has to replace your father, yes? Yes?"

It was Lilit's father who answered. He was not looking at his daughter or at Alek, but down the road, and he began to smile.

"The automaton will stay behind," he said. "But not the girl."

Alek turned. There was a figure upon the road, striding toward them. The sun was at her back, but he could still make out her grin.

"Oi, there, your masterliness!" she called, and waved her arms. "Didn't I tell you I'd make you your fortune?"

And Alek said, "Yes. You did."

**Author's Note:**

> This story ~~, as originally conceived, was meant to end in the polyamorous marriage of Deryn, Alek, and Lilit, but then a wild deadline appeared~~ is a retelling of the four tasks that Psyche performs at Aphrodite's command in in the myth of Cupid and Psyche. Lilit's promise that, "You will lose no face. I will think no less of you," was borrowed from Neil Gaiman's poem, [Instructions](http://genius.com/Neil-gaiman-instructions-annotated). The hair rings are based on certain pieces of Victorian mourning jewelry, such as [this one](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/236x/dc/3c/90/dc3c90304ed05be75e35ad8174fe3158.jpg).


End file.
